#but damn that poem is heartwrenching

[arctic-hands]

I can't eat plums anymore without wanting to cry over the poem of the father who went out of state to get fresh plums for his daughter who just attempted suicide

[metamorphesque]

you seem to know an awful lot about poetry,, think you can help me out?

i remember a while ago i read a heartwrenching poem of a young women recovering from suicide when she asks her father for a specific fruit that was out of season in their particular region, so he drives across state lines to acquire it.

its been bugging me all day sorry if this is random

It's from "Cherry" by Mary Karr

When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all? All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess. The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly. Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says. Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy. Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do. It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin. And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.

[torahgalus]

Vayigash

he spent twenty years in the dark, hands grasping for empty women and freckled sheep and crawling babes, for twenty years he worked his hardest and didn’t hear a word from God.

when he spoke his name and wrenched away a new blessing, the sun shone on him, twisted and whole and new. it said we’ve missed you, we’ve missed you.

a beautiful blood-soaked tunic stole the light again; its brilliance leeched the rest of the world black. for twenty years he wrestled with no one, folded smooth hands in a placant lap and felt empty, maybe blind, maybe done.

true his father could not see between him and his brother but he, oh he could not see his sons at all.

his quiet empty heart stopped when he heard the news--perhaps he’d just forgotten what the day light looked like. perhaps he’d lost the space for all this spirit. perhaps he’d forgotten his own name.

[amiihans]

top five: old movies, hobbies, siken poems, & angsty rp moments?

TOP FIVE — old movies!

to be fair i don’t go for older movies, but the ones that i’ve seen are few and far between so here goes y’all !!

the breakfast club (1985) — it’s a classic american film which means i honestly saw it here way too late. i can understand why it’s iconic and tbh the archetypes are enjoyable, though the makeovers? at the end? i do not understand

heathers (1989) — okay to be honest i got to the musical first then the movie, but it was both hilarious and creepy and i loved it. still do !! i might watch it again tonight tbf now that i remember it!

scream (1996) — sue me this is old to me! but really neeve campbell? courtney cox? skeet ulrich and matthew lillard????? great cast and real campy horror considering what’s out there rn !!

sister act (1992) — catholic singing ?? whoopi goldberg ?? maggie smith ?? what’s not to like tbh !! hail holy queen and salve regina are great pieces of music n honestly i would b remiss not to add a musical here

maurice (1987) — okay so it was a nice movie and a lil heartwrenching like good romances are and it’s got a happy ending !! holy shit !! it’s good !! man, i love to see it. im frothing at the mouth thinking about it !!!!!

TOP FIVE — hobbies!

damn give me an existential crisis at 8 pm huh? mostly what i do when i got the free time is read a hilariously extensive amount of books, play dungeons and dragons (and other ttrpgs), write and mostly rp and maybe some poetry, veg out on video games, and love my motherfuckin friends!

TOP FIVE — siken poems!

i love me some siken and i credit y’all for my brainrot about this man’s poetry !! christ almighty siken sends me into a spiral sumtimes but hell it’s an enjoyable spiral at least

scheherazade — tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. / these, our bodies possesed by light. / tell me we’ll never get used to it.

boot theory — your co-workers ask / if everythin’s okay and you tell them / you’re just tired. / and you’re trying to smile. and they’re trying to smile.

a primer for the small weird loves —you try to warn him, you tell him / you will want to get inside him, and ruin him / but he doesn’t listen. / you do this, you do. you take the things you love / and you tear them apart.

still life with skulls and bacon — we carve up the world / and crown it with numbers—lumens, ounces / decibels. all these things and what to do with them. we carve up the world all the time.

detail of the fire — who will master this love? love might be the wrong word. / let’s admit without apology, what we do to each other.

TOP FIVE — angsty rp moments!

listen i don’t remember much so i’ll list down what’s left of what i remember and try to squeeze it into the minutiae of the goddamn answer to the ask. what i do remember is Devastating to me, personally though.

will and damien drinking, preceded by his fight with beth — yeah well that did me in. i got so hung up on beth being so angry about keeping his kid from the team and the way damien broke down in front of will ?? masterpiece if i do say so m’self!

hawk’s confession — confessing to your oldest dearest friend that u love him ?? and gettgng rejected ??????????? slurp slurp we love this angst juice babes !! the fallout was delicious as fuck

the fall of hq — straight cinema shit my guy !! u love to see it !! i honestly thought that it was going to be hell to fight the monsters but we managed to run with the skin of our teeth so that was fun !!

damien’s letter — writing a goodbye letter to his kid in case he died? yeah, that’s big yikeroonies energy right there luv x

recuperating at the valentines’ — the mood? the aftermath? reeling from death and destruction ?? what could b more fun ??

but notice how all of these are retired related huh rly makes u think if there isn’t a common cause of all this gd angst ?? who knows !!

[awed-frog]

hiya *waves* ... a couple days ago you had a post about death--about living well? The oldest living generation in my family have started dying. (It feels so odd to say it like that. but.) It feels like my family is stuck in endless loops of grief. Do you have any advice for making the sadness a little easier to bear? Thank you very much for your time.

I’m sorry you’re going through that. I know exactly what it’s like, because my family is 90% old or oldish people, and it’s so damn hard, isn’t it? Thank you for trusting me to give you advice on this - here is my best attempt at an answer on this complicated topic.

Some say we now find it harder to bear death because we’re not used to it anymore. Very few of us kill our own food, child mortality is exceedingly rare (in luckier countries, that is) and old age is generally disguised, disregarded and hidden away as much as possible. Even funerals, which used to be held in the family home, have become a business (I think around the late nineteenth century, which makes it a very recent development): nowadays, dead people are ferreted away, washed by professionals, dolled up, even pumped full of questionable chemicals so they’ll look ‘healthy’, ‘serene’, and ‘at peace’. I know people who prevent children from visiting older relatives and seeing them after their death, and even going to the funeral, because ‘it’s too much for them’.

(I disagree, by the way. I think it’s good to show children everyone’s different and getting old is a thing, and it’s better to give them a chance to say goodbye, to understand a loved one is truly gone, so they can process it and ask questions about it. Some of my younger students were left traumatized by hidden deaths in the family, and it was heartwrenching to watch.)

I think there’s some truth in all that; but on the other hand, I also see this idea of ‘people getting used to death because shorter life span’ as a bit of a myth. If you read letters from Antiquity, or go through tombstone inscriptions, you find a lot of people ravaged by grief. The fact it was common to lose children and spouses didn’t make it particularly easier to bear.

I don’t know that I can answer your question with anything worth hearing or sharing, because I haven’t found a good way to deal with grief myself. There are days I can be okay with it, and I’m happy and grateful for the time I had with my loved ones, and can imagine they’ll never be truly gone (I’m not sure that I believe in Paradise, but I like the idea that the matter making up our bodies simply goes on to become something else: the old wisdom vita mutatur, non tollitur readapted for the age of science, if you will), and then sometimes it all seems pointless, and pointlessly sad.

What I learned, however, is most of our sufferings come from one thing: we find it very hard to accept change. 

Poet  and historian Hillel Schwartz once said the biggest challenge when facing old age, a life-threatening illness or a sudden disability is not the practical side of it (for instance, that you can’t walk anymore), but the certainty that without this specific thing you can no longer do, you’re no longer yourself. He encourages people to find their sense of self in more profound things, because most of us build it by relying on stuff that’s not permanent and can disappear at any moment (our family, our job, our favourite sport or hobby). I heard him speak two years ago, but I still think about that regularly, because it’s hard, isn’t it, to know who you are without these external supports we take for granted in our daily life (walking, running, a salary, a mother and father, your best friend)? 

And I think the same is true for grief. When you grieve for someone, your grieve for two lives lost: your loved one’s, and your own. You grieve because the person you were with them no longer exist. You’ll never again be someone’s grandchild. That’s gone forever. That side of your personality you only shared with this person, the inside jokes, the quiet moments of affections, the secrets you kept for them or they kept for you - that’s finished. A piece of your sould that’s just missing. And my best guess here is that, like Hillel Scwhartz said, you need to accept you can function as yourself without that relationship in your life - which takes time, of course, and it’s easier said than done.

We know Japanese noblemen cultivated this quest of your deepest, most intimate and essential self by doing three things, which I think we can all practice to try and overcome our saddest moments.

First of all, there are the famous reflections on the worst case scenario. Nobody wants to think about their own death, or your loved one’s death, or other traumatic events like a severe illness, losing your job or your home, but there’s a theory that by staving off those thoughts, what happens is that you’ll be even more afraid of them (because ignorance breeds fear) and completely unprepared when the thing actually comes. That’s why samurais thought about their own deaths a lot, and research shows that being prepared - for anything, and especially for the worst - is a very good way to reduce anxiety and unhappiness. It’s particularly good to gently encourage ageing relatives to make plans for their future lives on living arrangements, medical care and so on.

Meditation is another good way to force the mind to be still and be more present and more aware of why you think and feel the way you do, and it’s also been proven to have health benefits. Plus, as a Zen abbot told me, when you sit in meditation for a long time, you ultimately start to realize all things are equal - that you’re not ‘wasting time’ by doing that, because objective reality is an illusion, and things only assume meaning depending on your attachment to them. 

Finally, something I like about Japanese and other Eastern cultures is that they are quite happy to celebrate impermanence. In Japan, you get an entire nation obsessing over cherry blossoms - a phenomenon that only lasts a few days; in the Himalayas, monks spend a ridiculous amount of time creating intricate sand mandalas, which will then be destroyed. In the West, we take a completely opposite view, and that’s one reason why we’re such hoarders and we give such special meaning to old movie ticket stubs, clothes we no longer wear, and hideous childhood crafts everybody’s secretly ashamed of.

(Also feelings of hurt and resentment which can dog us for years, even after the person we’re angry with is long dead.)

All of those techniques will hopefully lead to a quieter, calmer mind, which still experiences feelings but is not dominated by them. A concept we tend to associate with Buddhism, but that’s actually hailed as as the recipe to happiness in many cultures (through independent philosophical thinking or cross-contamination? that, I don’t know).

When you manage to overcome your own mind, you overcome myriad concerns, rise above all things, and are free. When you are overcome by your own mind, you are burdened by myriad concerns, subordinate to things, unable to rise above. Mind your mind; guard it resolutely. Since it is the mind that confuses the mind, don’t let your mind give in to your mind. (Suzuki Shosan, 1579-1655) 

I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free. (Nikos Kazantzakis, 1923)

The bitter truth about being mortal and self-aware is that saying goodbye to an old, beloved relative is not only part of life: it’s the best option for everyone involved. Living to eighty or ninety, having the opportunity, the time and the emotional skill to forge deep bonds of affection with those around you - that’s something we can all aspire to. But in order to fully understand and accept that, we need to reverse our traditional way of thinking.

Becoming more mindful and more tolerant of impermanence is a long journey, but I honestly believe it leads to a better life. I think the best thing you can do now, and what I’m trying to do myself, is to be there for your older relatives and deepen that connection, while also focusing on the life they will not see: you as an adult, as a parent perhaps, as an older person. Nurture your mind and soul, be curious, be passionate, be patient. Enjoy the present without fretting about the future or regretting the past. Breathe.

(Oh - and here is my favourite poem about grief - I find it helps.)

[boasamishipper]

🛒 for the fic writer ask!

What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

titles that come from song lyrics/poems

recurring handful of metaphors

endless puns

character a with abandonment issues / low self-esteem / survivor's guilt from past trauma (or all of the above) learns to accept the love of character b (and/or found family)

tooth-rotting fluff or heartwrenching angst, Very Little Middle Ground

first kiss that leads to Miscommunication-Induced Angst followed by a Big Damn Second Kiss once the miscommunication is resolved

if i'm not writing for a tom cruise movie, you'd best believe i'll be sprinkling in references to tom cruise movies

happy endings woohoo 🥰🥳

send me a fic-related emoji!

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #33

The big 33! This is when Jesus and Alexander the Great died! I memorized a poem about that once. No worries, this list will go on, just like my heart.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs​ for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Devil May Care (Others Definitely Do) by EdgarAllenPoet for Silverheartlugia2000 Words: 2,601 Author’s Summary: “So it was a day just like any other. They were flying through the void of space, traveling from one distant planet to another, with dobashes of free time in between. Keith was in the training room after their morning team session, getting his ass handed to him by a very determined Antok.” My Comments: Rough at parts, but really great picture of Keith, Antok, and Red. I loved the imagery of how all the paladins bond, too, and the tag-team parenting between Red and Kolivan was hilarious and heartachey. Keith is not used to having so many people care about him all at once, but he’s getting there.

Makings of a Pilot by mckinlily Words: 2,561 Author’s Summary: “He’s the one we’re looking at,” says Iverson. “Shirogane. He’s the one for Kerberos.” Sam Holt isn’t quite so certain. After all, it takes more than good test scores and a charming smile to be a pilot. But Shiro’s got a habit of upsetting expectations. My Comments: Fantastic Sam POV, and fantastic backstory for Shiro and Keith. You can really see how that one little incident informs and changes who they are afterward. It’s a bit painful, but beautiful stuff.

Play by RottenMint Words: 1,197 Author’s Summary: Training with Antok reveals something Keith didn’t know he needed, as well as someone who can provide it for him. My Comments: This is adorable! Dads of Marmora are super good. All the play-fighting and giggle fits for Keith, please.

The Camel’s Back by LdotRage (ObliviousInsomniac) Words: 3,310 Author’s Summary: From the moment he woke up that morning, Hunk knew it was gonna be a bad day. He was right. It is a bad day. Until his teammates catch on, at least. My Comments: Aw, Hunk. Sometimes it all gets to be too much. I love how everyone immediately realized that they had messed up and chased after him. Hunk deserves all the huggles.

Diplomacy by BombDiggityDog Words: 2,332 Author’s Summary: Lance knew diplomacy was hard, but he never knew it involved poison, traps, and kidnapping. My Comments: Nice little Altean!Lance snippet featuring Lance in danger and Keith and Allura as Big Damn Heroes, because of course they are.

Space Cocoa by midnightwaterlily33 for AceQueenM Words: 2,280 Author’s Summary: Keith hates sentimentality. He hates when they try to include him by forcing him to open up when sometimes he just… can’t. Not unless it’s done in the right way. Sometimes the help he needs comes in unexpected ways. AKA: Keith is upset, Hunk tries his very best, and then some emotional resolve is found in a cup of weird space hot chocolate. My Comments: Aw, Hunk is the sweetest and the best, and he was the perfect one to offer Keith some company and understanding. What good boys. Tagged possible romance, but reads gen to me.

Talent Shows and Technobabble by Theresalwaysamystery Words: 2,705 Author’s Summary: The Paladins are asked to participate in an exchange of talents to solidify their newest alliance- Pidge isn’t sure about her people skills and Hunk is right there to help her figure things out. My Comments: Pidge’s talent is so nerdy and perfect, and I love how everyone was helpful and supportive. Fun, sweet fic.

Positivity Day by MizuKitten Words: 1,593 Author’s Summary: Lance wakes up sick, and tries to go through his day despite the fact. It does not end well for him, luckily his friends are there to help. My Comments: Just a cute, fluffy little modern AU sickfic. Hunk is perfection, as usual.

This May Sting by Stratagem Words: 5838 (4/?) Author’s Summary: Lance gets appendicitis. In space! Cue a very worried team. Also, Alteans don’t understand why humans have apparently pointless body parts such as appendixes. My Comments: I’ve loved everything I’ve read from this author, and now we’re getting a long sickfic featuring Lance! I am so EXCITED.

Dislocation by Arisprite Words: 5300 (2/?) Author’s Summary: noun A disturbance from a proper, original, or usual place or state. Keith feels useless in the initial search for Shiro, and refuses to rest (since resting would mean thinking about the fact that Shiro was gone, had left him, again). Lance, fed up with the whole team not taking care of themselves, challenges him and Keith takes him up on it. Neither of them know that little competition will put both their lives in danger, but after surviving the night, they may understand each other a little better. My Comments: Great start to what promises to be a very fraught and angsty fic. Pretty angsty already, with everyone absolutely at the end of the ropes because of losing Shiro. And it looks like it’s going to get a lot worse. :D

This Is Where We Start by Agapostemon Words: 1,426 Author’s Summary: Sometimes you just need a few space mice to remind you how much you have in common. My Comments: Really sweet fic with Allura coming across a grumpy, strung-out Pidge and delicately making moves to bond with her. Also includes great use of the space mice! Lovely.

To Sorrow with Thee by Swiss Army Knife Words: 7,054 Author’s Summary: In which Lance becomes the Black Lion (and Keith’s) grief counselor. My Comments: This fic is beautiful, sweet but sad. A lot of gorgeous imagery, and I love how Lance and Keith found an understanding together.

Beneath the Champagne Sea by Swiss Army Knife Words: 14,980 (6/?) Author’s Summary: The paladins make a diplomatic visit to a planet with sexual dimorphism roughly opposite that of Earth. Women are larger and more powerful, while men are learner and smaller. Lance attracts more than his fair share of attention. My Comments: The worldbuilding in this story is off the CHAIN. So many beautiful sights and descriptions, though the sexism undergirding the world makes it a bit disconcerting. Lance just wants to have fun hanging out with someone who enjoys his presence, and I’m low-key (high-key) worried about what’s going to happen.

Spades to Start by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 1,941 Author’s Summary: When you teach an Altean how to play poker, they’ll want to play a game-And that will just end poorly. My Comments: Absolutely delightful tomfoolery with Team Voltron and a game of chance, with a quite unexpected outcome. This story makes me grin every time, and I’ve read it multiple times.

Ten Days by WashiPuppy for onoheiwa Words: 4,081 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Most people never got to learn exactly what their mind is worth, how resistant it is. Lance knew now, and the answer was ten days. It only took ten days for something in him to break that he wasn’t sure he could get back.Shiro had survived a year and come out as someone still able to smile, to be kind and gentle with those around him. Scarred, but not shattered. Lance wore no new scars. But he still hadn’t made it ten days. My Comments: Tagged eventual Shance, but I’m in it for the bad trip Lance is about to have. Holy crow, this first chapter is already INTENSE. I love the worldbuilding already. The team is under a huge amount of stress and it’s pretty miserable to read, but I trust this author a lot. I’m in.

Happiness is a Bowl of Home by vikki Words: 1,026 Author’s Summary: The first time Shiro eats the food goo isn’t the first time Shiro eats the food goo. (What he wouldn’t give for a bowl of mac & cheese.) Originally written for the Shiro Zine organized by kayochins. My Comments: Very touching and poignant fic about Shiro’s issues with food, followed up with the team making it better. Lovely.

To Cradle a Baby by Helicopter_Buddy Words: 1,685 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Lance heard an explosion at the dead of night. He guessed it was Pidge’s doing, but he certainly didn’t expect this. My Comments: Pidge accidentally turns herself into an adorable, exhausted, frightened baby. Fortunately, Lance is there to cuddle her. It’s adorable, and satisfying as is, but I’m looking forward to more. Totes subscribed.

Earthquakes by Atalto Words: 5,578 Author’s Summary: His mother always used to warn him of tremors and buildings, of collapsing whilst the buildings around you stood strong. The signs are all there. The earthquake is coming. But he’s fine, really. My Comments: Hunk-centric hurt/comfort! Can I get a hallelujah? HALLELUJAH. It’s so good. Hunk is such a good good boy, and he helps everyone else so much all the time always, but sometimes he needs to be cuddled.

Of (Space) Dogs and Good Intentions by realityisiron Words: 7,753 Author’s Summary: When in doubt, get your friendly neighborhood Black Paladin a dog for his birthday. Well, considering you’re in a galaxy far far away, at least get him a space dog. Nothing will go wrong probably. My Comments: Absolutely precious and heartwrenching. The gang wants to make Shiro happy, so they get him a puppy, and hoo boy does it make him happy. Allura has second thoughts, it gets super angsty for a bit, but I super duper love the conclusion. Shiro gets some SLEEP.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

writterings’s When You Reach Me HapaxLegomenon’s The Machinations of Perception Eastofthemoon’s Towards The Sun MoonlitPaladin (MoonlitStardust)'s Gate Keeper tommino's Fighting the Surface (now complete) LonelyGirlInSpace's The Color Of Our Planet From Far Far Away (now complete) IcyPanther’s As Color Fades Away EdgarAllenPoet’s Down Time (Don't Let Me Down) Emerald_Ashes’s Coming Undone (now complete, and so satisfying) squirenonny’s Someplace Like Home Stratagem’s Water and Blood Mists’s Defying the Odds (I love this chapter so so so much) TheHomestuckWhovian's This Is New (now complete) buttered_onions’s The Size Of Our Actions achieving elysium (Ogygia)'s familiar WildWolf25′s Coran's Guide to the Care and Keeping of Earthling Humans

[windandwater]

@lies​ replied to your post:

Hm. Should I take back what I said on Twitter re: your ability to go on at length re: things you *liked* in the movies?

*GRABS YOUR FACE* BUT THE ~~AESTHETIC~~ OF RIVENDELL THOUGH LIKE I’ve been to places that reminded me of Lorien but nothing compares to Rivendell AND IT’S BECAUSE OF THE MOVIES AND THE WAY THEY WEAVE TOGETHER NATURE AND ARCHITECTURE also Pippin’s song oh my god like you saw me posting the entire poem it was based on right??? it’s so different!!! but both are good!!! and Pippin actually singing for Denethor in the movie hits an emotional heartwrenching note in the best possible way that wasn’t missing from the book but it came through in other ways and it was NECESSARY in the movies also let’s talk for twelve hours about how the minor “king has got a crown again” scene in the extended broke my damn heart in two THE VISUAL WAS SO PERFECT UGH KILL ME JUST KILL ME and another thing I hated the “lol jk Aragorn’s not dead” plotline but having them be attacked by wargs was a REALLY GOOD IDEA it upped the tension to 11 and was terrifying and also I know I know it took ten years to end but the endings were all so beautiful and I need SEVERAL HOURS to scream into a pillow about the Gray Havens and Sam’s walk home and L I S T E N

[sage-niao]

will I ever stop feeling numb? an everlasting cliché of a question that suddenly applies to my body. is it my question or someone else's, somebody's question that controls my every moment, my every step, my every single god damn heartbeat? do people cry at dog's deaths? some abstract creature with a wagging tail dies and the world pauses. would people cry at my death? my death: a heartwrenching scene in which a nimble soul dies at the feet of oblivion. we won't find out unless we try.

I’m not sure if this is a poem/story or a suicide note. How about we talk in PM if you’re comfortable with that? If not, you can send another anon clearing it up.

[2017isforlovers]

week 1: WEEK OF SOUR ROOTS, SOURPUSS, UNEXCITED ABOUT FUTURE

Every moment is a copy of another moment is what W told me the summer I loved so cleanly I swear it’ll break me now. This train is just a copy of the same train that ran one year ago, same route, only now it is something polar; the wind whipping up when I walk between cars, walking off the same nerves same stomach same body, twenty pounds heavier and more full of things that have settled in me. The floors are dusted with snow, is what I mean; so is the world outside. I must’ve ate pizza one year ago too; it is usually what I eat on trains going to New York City or else elsewhere. There is something consistent about it: it’s bready, so maybe won’t hurt my stomach more, make me explode on the floor with all the bad shit in me I’m waiting to digest. Resolved: eat more fiber? Resolved: eat less cheese?

The difference between me now and me one year ago is that I have three continents and one good love under my belt (be it T or L, whichever is however true later) and it’s made me greedy and sullen. Last night O read my message to T and called it “sad” and I wanted to hear “beautiful,” that my sadness and anger is beautiful in the way that some day it will have made the heartwrenching chapter in the book that jumpstarts the life of risk and pleasure. In my head I said I resented G because she is dramatic, cast herself as protagonist and author of the story and in doing so writes something limited but is the truth that I do the same? Of course it is. Is it? 

The answer is that there are no answers. The answer is that there are four women sitting behind me and one is from Missouri and one is from Billings, Montana, and they are traveling on the train from Rochester to New York City and then I do not know what they will do. They are planning a train trip to Kansas City. Maybe one day I will be sitting with three good friends from all over the world and be planning our annual train trip during which we will sit on the bumpy car and we will bring card games and snack and chat and know that it is all there is to life, just us, just here.

It is January 2017 and I keep seeing myself in single older women who have not always been single but who find their joy in teaching and seeing the world for their kindergarten students and then again for their nightly crossword puzzles, or else their dogs. A, G, and now C who sits beside me on the train and with her necklace of pearls says “Wow I’ve never thought about that, that’s interesting, isn’t it.” She went abroad to France after school and then she went to England for “lovelife stuff,” you know. I am enchanted with her ten-minute riff on British supermarkets, which sounds fetishizing to write, but you know it was true: just staring at her, this lit-up thing who kept talking to me about something that feels mundane but of course is one piece of the puzzle; the wild things we have engineered to keep functioning, and all the people who have bought into the silliness.

But talking with her reminded me of how I much like speaking with and meeting new people and being in new places, learning how they work even though they throw me (motion sickness) for the first few days. And let me be clear with myself: that this will happen on and on and on, forever, for the next eighty years of my life. It is the nature of my body. It is nature. It is nature.

Which leads me to the point of this post, what I wanted to write about – and mind you, writing something like this for the next few Sundays is something of a resolution, but not one that I’m writing down, but one for myself. It is time to bring myself back to myself, to work through all that’s happening as it happens instead of saving it for later. It is time to do my best. But S is right that something has got to go.

Anyway, the point, the point, the point was that this week has been full of the old and that I’ve been sick of it. Pouting tantruming child. Wanting some variation; knowing that she has it so fucking good. Imagined one way, this week started the year by fortifying who I am, who I know, what I know, what I have learned: seeing J. Hearing about his stories, just the same, kissing girls at his church and having them over and shifting alliances. G, in his head and staying there (like me?), trying to make memories with his friends but unsure of how to do it without standing on chairs and stealing the spotlight. Listening to A talk, eating melted cheese and snacks in somewhere dark and warm with her. (The new of this week: the contra dancing, finding the rhythm, trusting in spins. Still I did not ask anyone to dance.) Driving C home from work and to tease out our sadness. Dad playing piano and me playing flute and me playing piano and A singing. My voice tired and straining. Frosty’s with O, knowing that there is one way to be with her. Not being trained in my quick laughter anymore. Being angry, resentful. Why, because I am not included on the list of those who sustain her? Balls. Yeah it hurts, it always hurt. First time I surprise-cried in therapy was about her; the poem about her was the one he loved. Damn, you know?

It is 2017 and my instinct is to leave when things get hard and my body clenches up when I think I’m not allowed to. L won’t love me? Forget her. I didn’t finish me list? Forget it. Don’t cross things off. Be tired on the phone so people know they bother me. Don’t verbalize that I just need a backrub, a touch, a hug, not a conversation – just to be close and to be touching and to be actualized in this space. Just to feel the weight of someone else to remember.

I had to leave the café car and am back now in my seat. Resolution: get rid of the word “trapped” from my vocabulary. Resolved: Lie less. Fuck girl, you don’t lie very much anyway. You’re good on that at least.

Let me just write that word that I have been thinking: suicidal. Not the act, just the word. The feeling like oh god am I really to kill myself in this way. By burning. By burn-out. Slowly. Exhausting myself until the very end and then finally sleep. Would making it quicker be so bad, then? This is not the life I choose for myself. I choose the life of opening my mouth to sing. Look then, at how stubborn your own jaw is wired; won’t even open to ask someone to the dance. 

Yeah this was a tired week, going back through old routes and people and routines (read: kiss, read: driving). I can’t believe that I can drive, fam. Here is where I wrap up on a good note so the uncles and aunts don’t worry about me. Naha, nah, worry. Don’t call me but come and kiss my cheeks and sleep in my room. I hate sleeping alone is the thing. I hate hate hate it. Who else has told me this? Z. Gotta talk to Z. Scared of sleeping next to her, though. Not like sleeping next to L; that easy sisterhood with no room for imagination or past for doing so.

Resolved: drink more water. Resolved: eat right. Resolved: take care of the basics so that everything extra can be extra and better dealt with. Resolved: you love being silly and you love laughing and you love singing and musical theater and writing dramatic poetry and sharing it and most of all sharing it and reading it aloud over and over and over. It is 2017 and you love planning activities and trips and fun games. You love running things like that. You love making places where people can laugh. You are beginning to see the evil in things and your tendency to run out of money. You have started to read the finances section of your horoscope with some curiosity. You think that you have all the time in the world when really you just have today, and months that will bend around you and snap back leaving you hurt and smarting and confused. Resolved: remember that time is fake as hell. Remember that while you are sleeping others are waking up and also living out their days, and yours only need to be what bring you joy and will make the world better in the long run. You are ready ready ready for the new; your body will find it scary because it is new but that is only your mind running and protecting you. It will also protect you by bouncing right back. You who can drive and walk and swim and breathe. Deep, deep breaths. Smile. Take a picture every day. Okay love, one week down. I love you I love you. Drink your water, I love you, no excuses now. Say please and thank you and who are you and who do you love and why?